2003-04-23 - 2:50 p.m.
Sometimes life, the universe, God, what have you likes to play practical jokes on you. Me. Everyone.
I walked into my second interview this afternoon and thought someone was playing a practical joke on my. There, in the conference room sipping a machine mocha (you can tell because of the color) was Baby Huey. Or Lenny from Of Mice and Men. Or a child who had made a wish to a gypsy fortune teller except his head was in a fishbowl when he grew up so quickly, mashing his features. And then, before they took the bowl off, someone hit him on the back and it stuck that way. I can see him running through the halls screaming.
Iím going to hell. I know. The worst part? No, not the cheap polyester suit or the hands badly in need of witch hazel. No, the worst part, He is perfect from a skill set point of view for the job. He researched our company, he knows the right systems, he was articulate and knowledgeable. It was terrible. Heíll be crucified in this office. They will eat him alive. The guilt however is starting to set in. Itís making the excellent BLT (without the L) I had for lunch squirm in my belly and fight over the sushi chaser I had. The Starbucks Iced Tea that completed my meal is threatening to head straight for the bladder if those two donít settle down.
My manager didnít see anything wrong with him. But then, my manager is really not all that attractive either. He reminds me of the counselor in South Park with the inflated head. He is able to look past physical appearance, it seems, as he also agrees that he is a great candidate. But I donít see the Sales and Marketing folks dealing with him well. Unless we give him a company logoíd ski mask and institute a modified dress code.
Perhaps I can pitch him on the same level as the Mr. Personality reality show on Fox. Or give him an Iron Mask. Maybe even some fetish wear, which I think would be protected by some sort of law. That could work. ďIím pleased to offer you the job, but there is a catch. You must wear this leather suit at all times while in the building. Iíve sewn your keycard into the sleeve. Welcome to the companyĒ
I hate conundrums.
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